


Tongue Tied

by n_liketheletter



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Buzzfeed, Buzzfeed Blue - Freeform, Demons, I can't tag things, M/M, Possession, Supernatural - Freeform, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, ryan bergara - Freeform, shane madej - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_liketheletter/pseuds/n_liketheletter
Summary: After the last episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, Ryan and Shane visited a supposedly demon-infested hotel room. Things get weird, morals are put to the test, and an unexpected change of events recreates the pair's lives as they know it.**CURRENTLY ON HIATUS**





	1. Chapter 1

“Dude I swear to God if you even  _ attempt _ to put that whole thing in your mouth…”

 

Ryan sat across from his business partner and friend, watching the horrific scene with disbelief in his eyes. There was absolutely no way Shane would fit that whole sandwich in his pie hole, but he was going to try nonetheless. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. This was too much, especially right before a plane ride. The pair were flying back from a visit to the only demon-involved episode of the season, and after what had happened Ryan was not too keen to be stuck on a plane for nine hours with no escape. Even Shane, despite his own disbelief, agreed that there was something weird about the hotel room they had spent the night in - a major win for the show, but not doing a lot to calm Ryan’s nerves. This sandwich thing was the last straw. 

 

“Sff? I DIFFIT!” 

 

“Oh gross,  _ Shane! _ ” Ryan peeked through his fingers and wished he never had eyes. Shane had (unfortunately) succeeded in stuffing an entire Subway six-inch into his mouth, and there was saliva everywhere. Ryan threw up a little bit. 

 

“That is the nastiest shit I have  _ ever _ seen you do. That is  _ disgusting _ . I can’t even look at you right now, spit that out!”

 

Shane somehow laughed, swallowed something, and carefully extracted the now soggy sandwich. He looked up to see Ryan shudder and laughed some more. 

 

“You’re so squeamish, it’s hilarious,” he remarked happily.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Madej,” Ryan retorted. He would never recover from this. He would be scarred for life. He would have nightmares of sitting in this stupid cafeteria in this stupid airport, rewatching Shane cram a whole goddamn sandwich into his face. If this wasn’t hell, it was the closest one could get to it this Earth. Shane, however, was having a field day - because of fucking course he was.

 

“That was pretty disgusting, bro,” commented one of the camera crew. Collectively, they had started filming again as soon as Shane had mentioned stuffing his face. 

 

“I can’t even eat anymore, thanks to you!” Ryan complained loudly. To further prove his point, he wrapped up the uneaten portion of his food and placed in his duffel with a frown. He was met with laughter from all sides.

 

“I didn’t mean to make you that upset, buddy,” Shane said. There was a massive smile on his face that suggested otherwise. Ryan shook his head, but couldn’t keep a smile of his own from creeping onto his face.

“Shoulda thought of that earlier, Shane.”

 

“ _ Ryan! _ I’m trying to be sincere!”

 

“Too bad,” came out of the shit-eating grin that probably didn’t grace Ryan’s face as much as he wanted it to. Shane rolled his eyes.

 

“You’re the worst traveling partner ever.”

 

“Says the guy who just put a whole sandwich in his mouth.”

 

_ “Flight #185 is now boarding. Please return to terminal B5 at this time.” _

 

“That’s ours!” Ryan stated, hurriedly gathering his duffel and backpack. 

 

“Jeez, in a hurry much?” teased one of the camera heads. 

 

“Um, yeah,” Ryan responded. “Sooner I get out of here the better!”   
  


Shane scoffed. “You’re demon friend isn’t going to follow you home, Ryan.”

 

“It might! I don’t want to give it the chance to figure out what plane I’m on!”

 

Shane laughed and followed his companion back to the waiting area, taunting all the way there.

 

```````````````````````````

 

Ryan did not like planes. They gave him more anxiety than anything other than perhaps his job. All the people, all the noise, all the turbulence, all the disaster stories, and worst: no exits. At least he wasn’t sitting by a stranger - Shane always made sure to grab the spot next to Ryan. He was a good friend like that. Shame himself didn’t like the noise either, but that could easily fixed with headphones and music. For Ryan, however, it wasn’t that simple. He needed physical reassurance whenever the ride would get shaky, and Shane really didn’t mind. The most Ryan would do was grab the closest body near him and crush it with in his grip. Usually, it was Shane’s arm that was in the line of fire. Once or twice it was his hand, and there was also that one time that Ryan had grabbed Shane’s thigh…, they both agreed to never mention it again. The camera guys often got nervous about the equipment they couldn’t carry on; the security checks were a long and confusing mess. All in all, planes were just a bad rap for the whole Unsolved crew. 

 

The worst part of any flying experience was the take-off. Both boys would get jumpy, and Shane was quite susceptible to terrible sinus and ear pressure. Curiously, landings were never a problem, but today’s lift was especially bad for him. Shane was fighting back tears while Ryan sat next to him, stiff as a wooden board with a death grip on the arm rest. There was an awful pounding in Shane’s ears and temple, and he couldn’t really think beyond the ache spreading evenly across his forehead. The flight attendant's voice disappeared halfway through her safety spiel. Someone passed him a stick of gum, which Shane took gratefully. It was only towards the end of the ascension (when the pressure wore off) that they realized they were holding hands.  

 

As soon as the plane stabilized and now-slightly-awkward-hand-holding was over, Ryan was transfixed with the view. He was always looking out the window - from cars to trains to planes (only after all the yikes were over, though). He found scenery so beautiful, especially up in the air. Ryan would point out things to Shane, as the latter found heights like this sickening. Ryan would press his forehead against the tiny rectangle and reel off everything he saw while Shane worked on something in his seat. The camera crew, whose life-purpose seemed to be documenting the pair's every moment, took pictures and even filmed when Ryan got especially excited. It was cute - well, Shane told him it was. 

 

Once the whole “holy shit Shane that cloud looks like you” ordeal was done, both would either stare at their laptop screens for a while or go right to sleep - it depended where they were coming from. On this particular occasion, the pair had been shepherded away from the haunted (or “haunted,” as Shane would insist) hotel and straight to the airport. They were tired, jumpy because of planes and whatever happened last night, and the meal at the airport had taken effect at the terminal. Shane, who could find a way to fall asleep anywhere, had long been out when Ryan grew bored of the view. The camera nerds (who had gotten a solid 8-hours of sleep in a safe, un-haunted room) were busy editing and reviewing the tapes of the new episode. Nobody on the plane had recognized them (officially, anyway), and most others were either asleep as well or not really paying attention. Ryan was  _ tired  _ and  _ nervous  _ and  _ cold _ . In his delirious state, he recognized the friend beside him as a heated pillow of safety that he was very familiar with. Ryan peered around for a bit, decided he didn’t really care about appearances, and promptly dropped his head onto Shane’s shoulder. 

 

Behind him, the rest of the crew snickered. They were taking pictures, no doubt. Ryan couldn’t bring himself to care as he drifted away into the unconscious.


	2. Take Me to Your Best Friend's House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I actually completed another chapter instead of immediately deleting the original story! Thank you all very much for the kudos, I really enjoy the notifications lol. Constructive criticism = always welcome!

The plane jumped as it landed, jolting Shane out of his rest. He blinked twice, closed his eyes, decided he had to get up, and went to take the headphones off his ears.  His left arm made the reach, but he felt his right being pinned down by something heavy and warm. Confused, he opened his eyes and was met with shock -  Ryan, it seemed, had fallen asleep on top of Shane’s arm. His head was resting on Shane’s shoulder, while his torso was twisted and leaning on Shane’s arm. He was also drooling slightly, which was gross but oddly charming. Shane would’ve taken a picture if he were able to move. 

 

As the plane roared to a standstill, the passengers were informed that they would be reaching a terminal and unloading shortly. Shane supposed this meant they’d be stuck for another ten minutes (this  _ was _ L.A.), so for now he let Ryan sleep. The camera crew were just now waking up as well - Shane was able to turn slightly so he could speak to them correctly. They discussed travel plans back to the office and/or home - most of the guys would be heading back to the former to put their equipment into storage, and Ryan needed a ride because he left his car at home in favor of less cost. Shane wanted to sleep in his own bed as soon as physically possible, but Ryan didn’t look like he was going to be using the Metro without falling asleep. The lone person behind a camera who was going home and Shane had an intense rock-paper-scissors battle to see who would take the sleeping beauty home (Shane lost), and everything was settled. Once the plane docked, the hardest struggle of Shane’s life so far began.

 

“Ryaaaaaaaan, you gotta wake up buddy.” Shane shook his shoulder and tried to pry his friend off.

 

“Ryan, c’mon man, we gotta go,” Shane tried. He didn’t want to shout, but he was  _ not  _ carrying both duffels and Ryan out of this plane.

 

“Ryan! Wake up!” Nothing happened.

 

“Ryan, I swear to god if you don’t wake up right now I will suffocate you.” 

 

Shane let out a noise of irritation as once again, Ryan remained. There was more poking, and bribery, and threats - yet Ryan peacefully slept through all. Even the camera crew got in on the action, and everyone kind of ignored the flight stewards snickering in the back. As a last resort, Shane blew a bunch of air in Ryan’s ear.

 

“EUgh!” Ryan shrieked, sitting up right and looking around confusedly. Shane could hardly get any words out, for every time he looked at his friend for the next 15 minutes he burst out laughing; one of the camera techs filled in a sluggish Bergara. 

 

As Shane grabbed some bags, the rest of the plane filtered out. Ryan was beginning to fall asleep again and the flight attendants were being a little bit bitchy, so everyone left quickly. Baggage claim wasn’t necessary for the on-screen pair, as they both packed light and didn’t have heavy and expensive equipment to lug around. They said their farewells to the rest of the crew and Shane stopped by Starbucks for caffeine - he had to drive, and it was currently 1:30 in the morning. He silently praised the coming weekend, perhaps he would be able to catch up on sleep. Speaking of sleep, Ryan appeared to have fallen victim again as he waited for Shane’s coffee. Shane sighed, glared at Ryan for a bit, shook his head, and grabbed his luggage. He kicked Ryan lightly to wake him up again. 

 

Finally, after walking through another couple hallways, the boys reached the garage. Ryan shuffled around to stay awake as Shane paid for parking, and then the car was in sight. Shane piled carry-ons in his trunk, Ryan slowly moved into the passenger seat, and Shane stuck the keys in the ignition. Ryan was asleep before they had even pulled away from the parking lots. 

 

\------------------------

 

Shane was  _ positive _ he took Ryan home. He remembered stopping by his house. He 100%  _ knew  _ he had told Ryan to get his ass out of the car, and that he’d bring the luggage the next day. He totally saw Ryan climb up the steps to his tiny house out of his rear-view mirror. There was absolutely  _ no way _ he didn’t take Ryan Bergara to his house at 3:17 am. And yet, here Shane was, parked in his apartment garage and staring dumbfounded at his best friend in the passenger side of the car. Fast asleep. Shane was losing his mind. He blinked - Ryan was still there. He pinched his arm, but to no avail. Vaguely, Shane wondered if he was dreaming, or in a coma. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and tried really hard not to freak out. What in the actual  _ hell _ . It was too late to drive back to Ryan’s house even if he did live close, and that nap on the plane wasn’t doing much good. Maybe he was hallucinating. Yeah, that sounded logical. Shane was so tired he imagined the whole trip to Ryan’s.

 

Shane sighed dramatically. He really shouldn’t have been driving in the first place, so Ryan was going to have to stay at his place tonight. That was fine, Shane had a couch and food. He was sure Ryan wouldn’t really care, this wasn’t the first time he’d slept over. He might be a little confused when he woke up, but that was alright. Getting him out of the car and up four flights of stairs, however, was going to be an issue - Ryan was not about to wake up any time soon. Figuring he would get the stuff in the back tomorrow, Shane stuffed his phone in his pocket and grumbled around to the passenger side of the car. He half expected it to be empty when he opened the door, but Ryan was still there. Unbuckling his sleeping friend’s seatbelt, Shane attempted to pick up the resting bear in his car. There was a bit of a struggle (Ryan was fucking  _ heavy, _ dude), but eventually he was safely tucked into Shane’s arms and being carried bridal-style to the stairwell. A couple of floors later (after being mildly confused when the supposed “Out-Of-Order” elevator worked perfectly fine), Shane was putting a very sleepy Ryan onto his couch with a spare blanket. Shane then went to get some damn sleep. 

 

`````````````````````````````````````

 

Despite his best intentions, sleep was not going to happen. Shane had tried everything - tea, reading, counting sheep - but his brain wouldn’t calm down. This hallucination business had him tossing and turning all night. Was Ryan still in his house? Shane had to look one more time. Was he sure Ryan wasn’t at his own house? Shane texted him, only to hear his phone go off in the living room. There was too much to consider, and the past events of the night were worrying him to death. He wasn’t usually like this, so why now was he so disturbed over a couple of coincidences? Again and again, he tried to blame it on exhaustion and settle down, but to no avail. Eventually, he just faced the fact that he wasn’t going to fucking sleep. 

 

After 30 minutes of going back and forth on whether or not the hotel events were fictional and if Ryan was indeed still sleeping on the couch, Shane forewent sleep to go sit next to the subject of his mind on the sofa and watch some Netflix. Idly putting on a movie, Shane grabbed a mug, another blanket, and some popcorn, then went to settle next to Ryan. It was 4:53 when Shane finally got sleepy. He slouched where he was sitting (squished up against the armrest to give Ryan room) and rested his eyes for a bit. They’d seen enough in the past 48 hours. He vaguely recognized Ryan moving next to him, and something heavy resting on his stomach. With the drone of the movie and the comfort of his own house, Shane slipped into dreams. 


	3. ~cough syrup~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if i could find a way to see this straight i'd run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is having issues I'm sorry. Also sorry for not getting on writing this I've been so busy with school (senior year is kicking my ASS), and this is the only thing I've been able to finish. I promise more in the future after I get better mental health and less stress lol. Happy Holidays, friends! Thank you for amazing comments.

_ in a strange mist, a mirror appears. it is plated in gold and rubies, framed with opals, crowned with sculpted accents of flames. there was something odd about this beautiful,  _

_ elegant object, but he couldn’t place a finger on it. from far away, there were whispers. he couldn’t make out what they were saying, yet he felt they were discussing him and  _

_ something important. he caught only whimpered words of the strings of quiet conversations around him: ‘soon,’ ‘time,’ ‘reflection,’ ‘demon,’ ‘ryan,’ ‘shane.’ he began to feel  _

_ scared. they said suspicious things, and he didn’t want to listen anymore. instead, he looked into the mirror. curiously, there was no reflection. perhaps he was standing too far _

_ away, or he wasn’t in full range of the glass surface. he stepped closer - still no image. was it too dark? no, he could see his hands in the gray light that filtered through an  _

_ unknown opening. so why was the mirror empty? he looked back to the glass and jumped. now, his reflection was staring back at him with wide eyes and a pale face. the  _

_ expression ‘like you’ve seen a ghost’ came to mind. he sighed and rubbed his eyes. this was all very confusing. he had no reason to be embarrassed, for no one had seen him, but _

_ his face still burned all the same. looking back into the mirror, he noticed something…, off. the eyes were…, different. they appeared black, but he knew they were brown - he had _

_ just seen them that color. the face wasn’t aligning right - he knew he wasn’t smirking slightly. the color had left his face, sure, but his skin wasn’t pasty white like the reflection  _

_ showed, was it? he checked - nope, he was still a normal shade of flesh. the person in the mirror (he wasn’t positive it was his reflection anymore) was closer when he glanced  _

_ towards the now-suspicious object. he blinked, the figure was closer. he took a step back; this was getting weird. the shadow moved even closer, so that he couldn’t make out all _

_ of it’s dimensions anymore. he was beginning to freak out a bit. he wanted to leave. this thing in the mirror wasn’t  _ him _ , it wasn’t  _ right _. he continued to move back, and it forward _

_ until it’s face was smushed against the glass from where it stood. suddenly, he realized what was wrong: the glass wasn’t meant to be reflective but was instead a door without  _

_ handles. a boundary. a restraint, or a barrier, or a thin separator between him and this creature. said creature stepped back a bit from the door, and it leered with all the malice of  _

_ hell out at him. he looked around frantically to find an exit - there was none. this was bad. the creature tapped on the glass. it fractured slightly, and he was  _ terrified _. the figure  _

_ tapped again; the fracture grew into a break. he needed to get out of here. one more tap; a sickening crack filled the room. he was desperate, running around in the mist, but _

_ not finding anything to help him. taking a last look, he began to run. behind him, the glass shattered…  _

 


	4. Roll Around This Round-About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan has a complicated morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W h o a this is late and short I'm sorry guys - I promise longer chapters after midway finals are over! For now, enjoy some fluff as I gather my shit and try to put it together.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ryan woke in a cold sweat, panting slightly and shivering. That was the worst nightmare he’d had in awhile. Well, was it a nightmare? Ryan couldn’t be sure. Of course, he had had nightmares before, but they weren’t the scene he had just escaped from. It was almost more like a mindscape than a dream. It didn’t feel fictional, but at the same time Ryan knew it couldn’t have been reality. That place didn’t exist anywhere - no real location was pitch black except for everything directly around him, with a random ass mirror in the middle of the space. Okay, so maybe he could find a setting like that in a VR headset. Even still, the terror he’d felt was so real, he didn’t want to open his eyes for fear of the glass. That was really the scariest part: that creature inside it had looked  _ exactly _ like himself, save for the eyes and skin (which were horrific). Ryan did not want  _ anything _ to do with that  _ thing _ or wherever it came from. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and tried to shake his mind out of the dream by planning what exactly he would do to get ready for the coming day. 

 

First of all, he must’ve forgotten to close the blinds next to his bed, because there was too much light filtering through his eyelids to be enjoyable for a very jet-lagged person. He supposed he’d have to get up quickly and close them. While he was at it, Ryan thought he should probably go wash his face or something and fully wake up. Or, perhaps he would be lazy and crawl back into the warmth of his sheets and check his phone. Yeah, that was a better idea. He needed to text Shane anyway and thank him for the ride home. He was also sure that the camera crew would be wanting to give him all the footage for editing - they always needed memory. Maybe he’d get up eventually and make coffee. As if on cue, his stomach growled. Ryan sighed softly as he relaxed, and peeled open his eyes. 

 

At first, it was too bright to really see anything. After Ryan blinked for a bit, he started suddenly. He was definitely  _ not _ in his house - the window in front of him was bigger than the one next to his bed, and the wrong color. There was a TV to his right that wasn’t supposed to be there, the light fixture was wrong, and the sheets were a weird flannel. What in fucking  _ hell _ was going on. Just as he was about to flip his shit, Ryan came to the realization that he was in Shane’s apartment.  _ Now how the fuck…  _ Did Shane forget to bring him home last night? Did Ryan’s house burn down or something? He frowned - there better not be anything wrong with his house, he had bought it four months ago and would actually murder someone if he had to move again. Deciding against causing a ruckus about the situation just yet, Ryan moved to grab his phone and stumbled upon another surprise: he wasn’t alone on the couch. 

 

The suspicious flannel sheet was actually Shane’s shirt, which was attached to Shane, who Ryan was cuddling. This kept getting better and better, now didn’t it? Ryan tried to sit up and gather the situation, but Shane’s long and lanky arms were in the way. Huffing in irritation, Ryan struggled some more against the unusually heavy Shane-limbs. When he finally accepted he couldn’t possibly move anywhere else, Ryan settled back down carefully (he really did  _ not _ want to wake Shane up) and took everything into account. Shane, who was completely wiped out, was slouching heavily against the back of the couch. His head hung just over the back, and his arms were ev-er-y-where (as far as Ryan could tell, anyway). There was a blanket over his legs, and a separate one draped on Ryan. There was nothing about his position (except maybe the arms) that would suggest he initiated said cuddling, and that meant Ryan (whose head was on top of Shane’s stomach and whose arms were curled around Shane’s torso) started it. Ryan groaned - it was too early in the morning for this. As he began to settle his head back down to think, Shane shifted quietly. Hoping to whatever God was out there, Ryan willed his friend back to dreamland. 

 

So…, now what? He was cuddling his best friend, who happened to be a guy, and he was kind of really enjoying it.  _ Why, dude? _ went Ryan’s brain, and an onslaught of reasons poured into his head. First of all, Shane was nice and warm. He smelled good  (whoa, that was gay) and his flannel was soft and Ryan enjoyed listening to his heartbeat. It was cool, to be consciously aware of another human’s life. Ryan also thought that Shane was generally a good-looking guy  (fuck it, he was really hot), with his stupidly tall self and the dork glasses and the  adorable annoying way he wore his hair and - okay, that’s enough. But wait, what about his humor? Or Shane’s weird ability of cheering anyone and everyone up with his awkwardness? Or how about the fact that he never had anything mean to say about anyone?  _ Well, I suppose those are good reasons _ , said Ryan’s brain. The whole exercise didn’t really help sort out his thoughts, but at least he definitely knew he like Shane  _ a lot. _

 

Ryan came to the conclusion he might have a bit of a crush on Shane. That wasn’t weird, per say - he had had other minor crushes on guys before. Like that one kid in middle school that had almost destroyed Ryan’s life with the crisis he brought upon Ryan’s poor 14-year-old self, or like Eugene when he first started working at Buzzfeed (everyone had a crush on that guy at some point). So this whole guys-are-nice thing wasn’t new. But Shane?  _ Really, Ryan? _ his brain scolded him. This was his best friend, not some pretty person on the Metro. He was solidly straight (as far as Ryan knew), and he had just broken up with Sarah, and he was Ryan’s  _ friend _ . Ryan was continuing to contemplate everything when suddenly there was a noise:

 

“Ugh, Ryan…”

 

Ryan froze and almost had a heart attack. Shane, it appeared, was waking up, and in his bleary state had not only noticed Ryan but called out his name. Softly. Ryan’s cheeks flushed. This was very, very, very bad.  _ No no no no no _ , Ryan’s brain said. It got worse. 

 

“Ryan…,” Shane said, clearly and with something bordering concern and affection (or maybe it was just Ryan’s head playing tricks on him). “Are you - are you sleeping on me?”

 

There was no saving this.  _ Escape!  _ said Ryan’s brain, and he happened to agree with it for the first time this morning. 

 

“nO!” shrieked Ryan, and with that he dove off the couch and into the nearby bathroom, Shane’s laughter ringing behind him.

 

There was absolutely no way he was saving this now. 

  
  



End file.
